


Impractical

by TheSingerThatYouWanted (orphan_account)



Series: The Mighty Boosh Christmas Countdown Thing [3]
Category: The Mighty Boosh
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheSingerThatYouWanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince thinks fashion is more important than warmth and pays the price for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impractical

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly earlier one today, because a) I was bored on a long car journey and b) I won't have internet connection later on. This was written entirely because I have a cold and need a Howard to take care of me.

Snow was falling gently on the streets of London, the pollution in the air turning it grey and slushy even before it hit the ground. Vince walked unsteadily back to the flat he shared with Howard, grateful that Naboo had gone out for a few days. His vision was a little blurred and he knew from experience that the shaman would just stuff him full of weird potions that were guaranteed to make him feel worse instead of better. Howard, grumpy though he usually was, tended to at least be sympathetic.  
Stumbling against the door rather than really opening it, Vince made his way inside.  
"Howard?" he called, but his cheery voice came out as a croak. Vince realised he was shivering.  
"Up here, little man," came the reply from upstairs. Vince climbed up the short flight of stairs, chest heaving. Surely he wasn't always this out of breath when he went home? Howard met him at the top of the stairs, half-smile fading when he saw Vince.  
"What happened?" he asked.  
Vince swayed on his feet, stumbling forward, and Howard quickly stepped forward to catch him. He was so warm, and Vince curled instinctively closer like a kitten. His head was beginning to pound, like a drumbeat but nowhere near as enjoyable, and he pressed his face against his friend's chest to hide in his silence. Howard was asking him questions but he couldn't concentrate long enough to answer. Eventually one of them registered.  
"What on earth are you wearing?"  
"'S my favourite," Vince mumbled. Howard sighed in exasperation. Vince had a carefully catalogued knowledge of Howard's sighs, and normally he'd care about the fact that this sigh was not a happy one. His fuzzy brain, however, only seemed to care about the way the taller man's breath tickled in his hair. Suddenly everything was cold and bright and confusing as Howard held him at arm's length and frowned at him.  
"It's not exactly practical winter clothing, is it?" he said reproachfully, looking again at the bright purple jumpsuit with what could have been called a v-neck except that it came down to Vince's stomach. It wasn't even that tight on him, and Vince looked down in shame as he remembered that he'd skipped both breakfast and lunch that day. He'd just been so busy and the thought of eating had never crossed his mind. He knew how much Howard worried and stuttered out the beginning of an apology through chattering teeth. To his confusion Howard didn't seem to be listening. He lead Vince over to the sofa and sat him down before disappearing into their shared bedroom.  
Vince tucked his knees up to his chest, hissing as the snowflakes on his jumpsuit made contact with his bare skin. The shivers grew more intense again, but a second later Howard reappeared holding a blanket and Vince's hairdryer. The blanket- from Howard's bed, noticed Vince- completely covered the smaller man. He wriggled his head free of the material and smiled weakly at his friend.  
"Cheers, Howard," he said. Howard shook his head fondly.  
"You shouldn't need me to do this for you, you know."  
He plugged the hairdryer in and pointed it at Vince's damp mop of hair. All the life (and product) seemed to have left it. Vince groaned and let his eyes drift shut as the warm air flowed over him. Normally he'd complain if Howard came within a foot of his hair, but he was too tired and muddled to care and the taller man was gentle as he worked. Little by little, warmth returned to Vince's body. He stretched, coughing and sneezing but no longer feeling like he was going to die. His hair was a mess, but at least it was dry. Just before Howard put the hairdryer down he redirected it, blowing hot air across Vince's chest. Vince giggled.  
"Have you ever considered actually wearing clothes?" asked Howard, putting the hairdryer away and sitting down next to his friend. Vince shifted and rolled over until his head was resting in Howard's lap. His eyes closed once more and he smiled as Howard sighed contentedly and began to gently run his fingers through Vince's hair.  
"Watch your hair privileges," mumbled the younger man sleepily, but he was too tired to really protest. He drifted off with the scent of Howard filling his head.  
The next morning, when Howard began to cough, Vince was ready with tea and tissues. He'd known this would happen.

**Author's Note:**

> If I owned these characters then trust me I'd be doing more to them than writing stories. Oh, also I wrote this on my phone so my apologies if the formatting is messed up, I'll fix it tomorrow if it is.  
> As always, comments and feedback are awesome :)


End file.
